


Tantamount

by PoleForMySoul



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:44:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1379539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoleForMySoul/pseuds/PoleForMySoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Clearly a WIP.  Have not wrote in nearly 10 years.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Tantamount

**Author's Note:**

> Clearly a WIP. Have not wrote in nearly 10 years.

He burst through the doors of the laboratory, long coat billowing behind and coat ends nipping at the excitement that trailed along. Experiments were to be done, crimes to be solved, boredom to be cured; Or at least temporarily abated. The pale figure with his long dark locks springing against the frame of his face began a frantic, and rather noisy, peruse of the chemical cabinet with the large warning label over it, muttering to himself over the lack of clear organization of its contents.

It took a whole 1 minute and 32 seconds for Sherlock to pause his mind long enough to realize he was not alone, the room was not empty. His abrupt turn to face the intruder of his reality would be interpreted with an air of histrionic drama, if the visitor had even noticed him there. Her back to him, he studied her closely while she remained lost in thought, running her own experiments. Clearly concentrating deeply and producing slow, writing movements of her hand as though she were mapping out her own mild palace trying to solve the question to whatever lie through the looking glass of the microscope.

_Moderately tall for a woman, fair build, pale skin that rivaled his own in ghostly sheen. No makeup, unconcerned about public appearance or societal norms of a professional woman. Long, unnaturally red hair was pulled loosely into a bun, clearly dyed with great care. Appearances must me something to her, but likely her own self-appreciationand not a public imagine; she dyes her hair for herself. White coat starchly pressed. She had an air of pure concentration about her, yet a certain level of psychomotor agitation. Very intriguing, yet very difficult to read._

“Sherlock Holmes” he spoke as he extended a hand into her peripheral vision. No response, although her slight shift in personal position made it obvious she heard him. Perplexed as he was with normal human interaction, he remained vigilant that this is indeed how he is supposed to act publicly, how one were to make an introduction.

“You must be new here, I have never seen you”, he continued. He wanted to know more about this mysterious woman, to get more details to form a proper deduction on her. She finally lifted her vision from the microscope, but stared straight ahead for a beat. Finally, she abruptly spins her stool around to face Sherlock with a new level of hyperawareness that turned his stomach half a turn before he was able to control his startle response. She stared him up and down for a moment before she began speaking in a manner so pressured that Sherlock lost his own thoughts for a moment.

“You posture gives it away, you know?” He remained Perplexed to what she meant for a fraction of a second before her rapid speech pitched off again.

“The slight shift onto your right foot, the way you hold your arm ever so slightly flexed inwards towards your abdomen, you’re guarding your right side from pain; abdominal from your stance, likely right upper quadrant. Your eyes show minor residual scleral icterus, something that wouldn’t be perceived in most forms of lighting and without a trained eye, but luckily this is a laboratory and the lighting is perfect for picking up small nuances. So impaired bilirubin secretion. No evidence of jaundice so you are in the healing stage“ She scanned his arms which were expose to his elbow due to his rolled up sleeves. “Minor, diffuse bruising. You have an increased propensity to bruising, although no large hematomas, no obvious monoarticular joint discomfort or other signs of prior hemartomas, as well as no signs of pigmentation change suggests likely an acute problem. Impaired clotting function, likely thrombocytopenia. Thrombocytopenia and hyperbilirubinemia suggest an acute liver injury, most likely statistical causes are Viral Hepatitis or Traumatic Injury. Nicotine patch on the inside of your left forearm, your right forearm and there appears to be one peeking out on the lateral side of your right arm; inappropriate use suggestive of an addictive personality, one in which you appear to be lacking in serious consequences from prior. You attempt to control your addictions clearly, a desire to be better. So while your addictive personality leaves you at risk for viral hepatitis, it likely represents a risk for chronic, not acute, disease. Obvious virgin, so no horizontal transmission then. So, tell me…..knife or gun?”

Her speech had been so rapid and pressure it imposed upon the entire empty room and yet she intentionally drew out the last sentence, an obvious attempt to intimidate him with her deductive reasoning. His skin crawled ever so slightly and he felt her eyes searing into him, digging out his secrets. This must be what it feels like to John when he read his body language; feeling so exposed and naked. So out of control of your own information. He needed to turn the attention back on her.

“Your face is ever so slightly flushed”, he began with his voice slowly picking up in forced command. “Evidence of light perspiration against your brow and the nape of your neck. Pressure speech. Pupils dilated; carotids bounding rapidly. Clearly signs of infatuation. I am flattered, ma’am but I am married to my work.”

And with that he waited for the typical show of agitation that suggests he is right. He waited for her smile to fade and her eyes to flicker with uncomfortable fear at being exposed, just as he was feeling now. He waited and yet it didn’t happen. Her smile grew ever so slightly into something more representative of a smirk. Her eyes seared into him with an amusement she couldn’t contain or hold back. A pressured laugh erupted from her before she could contain herself, however it was quickly restrained back into her smirk.

“No, consider me flattered.”

Her eyes remained locked with his as she slowly rolled up the sleeve of her coat to show patches on her arm, not too unlike those he possessed by smaller and white in color. Delicate against her fair skin. “Scopolamine patch, Mr. Holmes……”

She waited to see if he understood. It took a moment for him to search his mind palace for the answer, but the information was indeed stored away from a prior case involving a dead body on a cruise ship. He attempted to hold back his rising level of embarrassment and frustration with being so wrong, “Scopolamine. Used for motion sickness, however in large doses results in Anticholinergic Syndrome. Mad as a hatter, red as a beet, hot as Hades, Dry as a bone and the heart runs alone.”

“Yes, don’t forget blind as a bat and loss of bowel and bladder tone. But no worries for that, a calculated dose can result in a lack of those more severe side effects. It also leaves with a lovely euphoria; helps me concentrate. As a man who clearly appreciates the….altered sides of consciousness, you surely understand. However, you never answered my question. Knife or gun?” She was fascinating, and so right in her deductions. He felt an unsettled feeling push through his stomach and his brain took a moment to clear long enough to respond. “Gun, close range. Liver laceration.”

She seemed to pause for a moment, pleased with herself. The calm of her contention quickly washed away and the tense agitation again streamed through her whole body. She abruptly turned to flick off the light on her microscope and grab her field notebook. She turned back to Sherlock and extended a hand.

“Natalia.” Their hands met in a quick but firm shake and she was out the door before he could respond. He was left to collect his thoughts for a moment. Something felt warm about her; familiar in a strange and foreign way. He wanted to know more about her. She fascinated him in a way most people didn’t. And best of all, he was suddenly not bored. His mind was racing with thoughts, all about the mysterious Natalia.


End file.
